


Two Fools, Lost in a Desperate Dream

by misura



Category: Kings (TV 2009)
Genre: Cameos, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-26 03:25:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12547764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: It started with Jack walking up to him, not bothering to introduce himself (and why should he?), slipping him a card with an address on it.





	Two Fools, Lost in a Desperate Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chelseafrew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelseafrew/gifts).



It started with Jack walking up to him, not bothering to introduce himself (and why should he?), slipping him a card with an address on it.

"One hour, no cameras, no cellphones. You show up late, you're out of luck."

 

Joseph didn't think of himself as someone who cared a damn about royalty, or who'd stick around waiting in front of a locked apartment for two hours.

It wasn't as if he was expecting this to be the beginning of a faerietale romance. In any faerietale written about Jack Benjamin, he'd probably be either the villain, or the spoilt eldest prince.

The first hour, Joseph told himself it was curiosity. The second, sheer stubbornness.

Three hours after Jack had pressed the card into his hand, Joseph realized he might be in trouble. Also, the sex was better than he'd expected it to be.

 

_"Don't expect me to call,"_ Jack had said, and so Joseph didn't.

He'd also managed not to snap back that he hadn't been expecting a call, anyway, let alone flowers or an invitation to grab dinner and a movie some time.

He caught himself wondering what kind of movies Jack would like, anyway. Whether Jack was the kind of guy who'd hold hands in a movie theater, or put out, or just sit quietly.

Not that last one, Joseph didn't think. He could imagine Jack being the type of person who'd go to a bad movie just to make snarky comments about it - during, not after, either out loud, to see who might rise to the bait and pick a fight, or whispered in Joseph's ear, hands slipped under his shirt, not quite undressing him right then and there, but hinting at the possibility, at not giving a damn who might see.

(No 'might be' about it: he really _was_ in trouble.)

 

Jack didn't call, but Joseph did run into him again, or Jack ran into him. It was tempting to think of it as Jack seeking him out, but masturbatory fantasies notwithstanding, Joseph wasn't quite that far gone yet.

Coincidence, definitely. Jack, looking for someone familiar, someone who could be relied upon to know what he was doing, and Joseph, hanging out with no one in particular.

(One of these days, he was going to hook up with a nice boyfriend and bring him home to Mom, and she might grudgingly accept that if she ever wanted any grandchildren, she'd best patch things up with his darling sister, whose taste in guys was much like his own.)

"Same time, same place, same conditions," Jack murmured, brushing past him.

"Same time was one hour ago," Joseph replied.

Jack stopped walking. Scowled. "Don't be a smartass." Walked on, not looking back, or waiting for a reply.

 

"Joseph Lasile. You look troubled."

People said of Reverend Samuels that God spoke to him. Joseph wasn't sure if he believed that. He liked hearing the Reverend speak at service, though - and, if he was honest with himself, he also enjoyed the way some members of the congregation responded to his presence.

He shrugged. "Old story. My head says I should stop seeing his person I've been seeing. My heart says I shouldn't, that maybe I can be the one who changes him. The one he's going to change for."

Samuels sat. "An old story, indeed," he said. "Once, I knew a soldier. Rough, uncivilized. Yet God spoke to him, and made him see his destiny, and now he rules as King. Change never comes easy, or lightly, but to those willing to open their ears and heart to God, it does come."

"So I should trust in God?" Joseph smiled wryly. He felt a little disappointed.

"Trust your own heart," said Samuels. "It is as much God's creation as the rest of you."

 

"New place, old time," Jack said. "Old conditions."

"I've got a place, too, you know," said Joseph. "It's nice. You might like it."

The sex was still good. He'd miss that, if it turned out he'd just pushed Jack too far - but on the other hand, if he left everything to Jack, they'd still be doing this years and years from now.

Assuming Jack didn't dump him for someone else in the meantime.

"Didn't look like much on the pictures," Jack said.

Joseph blinked. He was reasonably sure that the revelation of your probably-not-boyfriend having ordered his security people to take pictures of your apartment (and God knew what else) wasn't supposed to feel sort of good. Romantic, even.

The term 'creepy' might apply, or at the very least a certain degree of 'possessive' - except that Jack was neither. If there was one thing Joseph couldn't complain about, it was Jack getting too invested in their relationship. In fact, he was pretty sure that to Jack, the two of them didn't even _have_ a relationship. They just had sex, from time to time.

"My bed's very comfortable," he said. "And I've got a coffee machine. Probably not up to palace standards, but I bet you it's better than whatever old thing you've got over there."

Jack considered, then grinned. "What's the bet?"

 

Joseph thought he knew most of Jack's people by now - the bodyguards, the hangers-on, the drugs dealer.

The woman was new, though, even if he was able to take a stab at her identity based on the tidbits of information Jack spilled from time to time about his life at the palace.

She didn't look nearly as intimidating as Joseph had imagined her. Hardly a dragon at all.

Going by the sounds coming from the bathroom, Jack was still here, and taking a shower. Under any other circumstances, in any other company, Joseph might have slipped out of bed to join him.

As it was, he said, "Good morning," unconsciously pulling up the covers a bit, to better hide the hickey on his neck, until he realized what he was doing and stopped. He felt absurdly embarrassed and a little bit annoyed.

"Sir," she said. There was no expression on her face at all.

Jack started singing - not very loud, and not something Joseph would have been ashamed to be overheard singing by his ... whatever it was Thomasina was to Jack.

"There's coffee, if you want some." Not yet, probably, unless Jack had turned a lot more considerate overnight, but if she walked into the kitchen, that might give him just enough time to put some clothes on, or at least some pants. He'd feel much more confident wearing a pair of pants.

She shook her head. A woman of few words, clearly.

Jack stopped singing. He obviously hadn't been expecting company; he hadn't bothered with a towel when he came walking back into the bedroom.

There was a brief moment of silence. Joseph thought that he was probably the only one who was at all embarrassed or uncomfortable, which was a new sensation, and not a particularly welcome one.

"Thomasina," said Jack. "Enjoying the view?"

"Your mother wants you," Thomasina said. "Get dressed."

(She glanced back at Joseph once, before they left, and nodded, leaving Joseph to wonder what she'd meant by it, by anything - had he just been marked to disappear? Labeled a person of interest should anything happen to Jack? Promoted to official royal boyfriend, soon to be provided with his own bodyguard?)

 

On TV, the war happened, and kept happening.

In real life, Joseph's coffee machine broke down. A new one was delivered to his doorstep the next day. There was no card, no hint of who might have sent it to him.

It was a very expensive, very high-quality coffee machine. Probably, they didn't even have better ones at the palace.

 

"We should have had air support," Jack said.

It was the same thing he'd said last time Joseph had woken him up from a nightmare.

Awake, Jack hadn't talked much about the war. He'd been more talkative about his training, about the people he'd met, the soldiers put under his command.

Joseph had been a little surprised to discover a hint of jealousy in himself, for these people who spent their days and nights in Jack's company. Jack _knew_ them. He knew their birthdays, their dreams, their ambitions. He knew their favorite movies, the names of their pets, and where their family had come from. In a very real sense, Jack had loved them in a way he had never admitted to loving Joseph.

Losing them had hurt Jack in a way losing Joseph likely would not.

"Why didn't you?" he asked.

"They're saying I screwed up, but I didn't. _I didn't._ They were _my men_. I would never have screwed up like that. We went in, I made sure we'd have air support."

"I believe you," Joseph said, even if the truth was more that he wanted to believe. He would like to believe. He'd seen Jack drunk, though. He'd seen Jack half out of his mind on drugs. He'd seen Jack humiliate and denigrate people when he was in one of his mean moods, when he wanted to test how far people would go to impress a prince.

Those things did not automatically mean that Jack would be a bad commanding officer. Jack was never violent in the bedroom. Sometimes he was selfish, the way people used to always getting their own way were. Careless. Not fully aware of other people's feelings.

Jack stared at him. His eyes were wild. His hair was sticky with sweat.

Joseph felt himself flush. "I - " The problem was that if he believed Jack, it meant he also had to believe that Jack's air support had somehow vanished into thin air. That someone had _made it_ vanish into thin air.

"Get the fuck away from me, you fucking liar," said Jack.

Joseph winced. "I'm just saying, if you're right, what happened? Why didn't you have air support when you needed it?"

Jack was getting up, reaching for his clothes. They were in Joseph's apartment, Joseph's comfortable bed. There was probably a car waiting downstairs.

"Jack. Talk to me."

Jack didn't.

 

Ironically, Joseph had never counted on any break-up being his fault. He'd always assumed it would be Jack, walking away. He'd been ready for that, more or less.

He hadn't, quite, been ready for Jack getting to know him well enough to be able to tell when Joseph was only trying to humor someone who'd had a bad dream.

He definitely, _definitely_ hadn't been ready for a dragon showing up to kidnap him.

 

(To be fair, she was polite about it. Firm, but polite.)

(He was beginning to see why people found her intimidating.)

 

"I'm sorry."

Jack chuckled. "Hey, it's me. The Party Prince. Why would anyone believe a word I'm saying, right? This coffee is awful, by the way. Want some?"

"I should have been honest with you." Joseph wondered if the coffee was supposed to be punishment.

"Like I'm honest?" Jack smirked. "Where'd you get your new coffee machine?"

"You're honest enough with me," said Joseph. "Most of the time."

"Like when I say I'm not going to call." Jack poured himself another cup of coffee. "What does that even mean: honest enough? What, you're so attracted to me that you're cutting me some slack when it comes to other stuff? The sex is just that good?"

"It's not bad," Joseph said. "I guess I'm just - I don't know. I'm here for us if you are. And maybe even if you're not, or if you want to say you're not."

"You sound like one of those creepy stalker type of people who sent me locks of hair in the mail."

Joseph rolled his eyes. "I can promise you that I'll never do that."

"Good," said Jack. "I mean, who needs that kind of drama, right? We can just ... do what we do. No strings, no expectations. Simple."

"You can get simple from anyone." Joseph knew he had - well, not expectations, maybe. Hopes.

"Well, yeah, but I want to get it from you. I guess that means your simple is kind of special, huh?" Jack grinned. His eyes were calm, his hair just a little mussed.

"Flattery doesn't come easy to you, does it?"

"Flattery's easy," Jack said. "The coffee machine?"

"Anonymous gift."

"Meddling bitch," Jack said. "Though I guess having her like you is better than the alternative."

"So why, exactly, are we sitting here drinking this horrible stuff?"


End file.
